


have yourself a merry little christmas

by kateanderson



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 20:01:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13061148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kateanderson/pseuds/kateanderson
Summary: Through the years we all will be together, if the fates allow





	have yourself a merry little christmas

He remembers the last pre-Olympics Christmas, spent in Canton, which in his memory is now dimly lit and tinged with brown. At the time the lights shone brightly and he forced smiles at the rink when some lackey dressed as Santa showed up to hand out candy canes that would be found littering the building for weeks to come. All he remembers now is the feeling of loneliness and a vague sensation of impending doom. 

It's a bit different now. He's still lonely sometimes and the sensation of impending doom is creeping back in but he thinks - he hopes - that four years from now, these memories will be in colour and he'll remember the good things. Things like Tessa's smile. And Tessa's big laugh. And Tessa with reindeer antlers adorning her head.

Things with Tessa are complicated. They are not together, as she has made abundantly clear, but he's not seeing anyone else and sometimes, when they go out for dinner and hold hands on the walk home, he thinks that maybe one day he'll be able to win her whole heart. They haven't really talked about it, whatever it is between them, and he figures it's a conversation that will wait until after the Olympics.

He sighs, looks out the window at the bleak winter sky and then glances at the time on the microwave clock. Almost four o'clock. Almost time to leave for the airport, to hurry up and wait in traffic to retrieve Tessa, who had flown to Regina for a couple of days to take photos or sign her name to a few more pieces of jewellery or something. He wasn't exactly clear on the details. He pulls his boots on, big clompy ones that keep his feet warm and dry but Tessa hates them. "You see these feet, Tess? They're money-makers. These boots preserve them." he told her. She frowned and then a couple of days later, a very stylish pair of brown boots appeared in his apartment. He wore them once but the cold seeped in and they had been relegated to the back of the hall closet.

That's where he and Tessa will always be different.

*

The traffic is predictably chaotic and it takes him a solid fifteen minutes longer than he had planned to arrive at the airport. He parks the car, clomps through the snow and arrives in the airport to a whoosh of warm air. He quickly scans the sea of people, both relieved and disappointed to not see Tessa. A glance at the arrivals board confirms that her flight has been delayed by an hour. He stuffs his hands into his pockets, looks around and then stops at the washroom before settling down in a coffee shop.

He's gained a new appreciation for coffee since moving to Montreal. It used to be just black sludge that he dumped cube after cube of sugar into. He has now discovered that it comes in a variety of flavours and styles, served in every manner of shop. He orders a drink, tips the barista and then takes a seat in the corner. The counter is busy but most patrons order a drink and then take it to go, so he has the seating area mostly to himself. He pulls out his phone and brings up the hockey scores, trying to appear engrossed in something very important.

The cup of coffee is halfway gone when he gets a text from Tessa, telling him that she has just landed. He stands up, puts his phone back into his pocket, takes the rest of the coffee and heads back out to the arrivals area. He likes watching happy reunions and now, so close to Christmas, there are a lot of them. Families reunited. Friends coming together. Husbands and wives returning home from wherever life has brought them. He sees Tessa before she spots him. Her hair is down, she's wearing no makeup and is dressed very simply, for Tessa. She's looking around, an almost anxious expression on her face and he realizes that he didn't text her back and she's afraid he isn't there.

He steps forward, maneuvering around a loudly bawling woman hugging her family and touches Tessa's arm. "T!" he says. She turns and the anxious look on her face vanishes, replaced with a smile.

"Hey!" she says and allows him the briefest of hugs. "I hope you weren't waiting too long."

He would wait centuries for her but that was neither here nor there so he shrugs and says, "Nope, it's all good."

She had flown with only her carry-on, so they head out the door and back to winter. "Ooh," she says, coughing a bit in the cold air. "It was much warmer in Regina."

"Everything went well?" He figures he'd better ask, even if he has no idea what she was doing there.

"Great!" she enthuses. "Rachel has so many ideas! It's amazing to work with her."

He has already agreed to stay in Montreal after they retire from competition. He and Patch had shaken hands over a beer one night and now Scott had at least a temporary future ahead of him as a part-time coach at Gadbois. He figured Tessa would stay too, since she loves the city and had talked about going back to school here. Now he is afraid that his gamble won't pay off and he'll be stuck here without the one person that really makes the city come alive.

The drive back to their building is mostly silent and much quicker than the journey the other way. He parks in the underground parking and then turns to look at Tessa in the dim light. "Did you want to split some Chinese?" he asks. 

Tessa looks down. That's never a good sign. "I'm actually pretty exhausted and I'm not really hungry." she says. "I think I'd better just call it an early night."

He smiles and pats her leg. "No problem." After all, it's not really a problem, it's only a problem because he's making it into one. He quickly pulls her small suitcase from the trunk of the car and wheels it to the elevator for her. He pushes two buttons and when the elevator arrives at his floor, he leaves her with simply a good night.

*

Back on the sofa, staring at the clock on the microwave from across the room. The green numbers fade in and out of focus as his eyes cross. It says maybe 12:30 or 2:30, he's not sure which. Either one is way too late to be up when he has to be at the gym for 5:30. The remnants of his dinner are still on the coffee table in front of him. A frozen entree, the kind that he buys in secret and stashes at the very back of his freezer. His one guilty pleasure, along with the weekly beer with Patrice. Which, he realizes with a sigh, they'll have to skip this week. Being that it's Christmas and all, he imagines that Patch will be with his family.

He thinks briefly about calling his mom and then thinks better of it. How ridiculous to be thirty years old and homesick. Was that what it was? He's missing his family and the warm house and his brothers and their lot of children, all yelling and screaming. Next year, he'll be at home for Christmas. Unless he's accompanying a team at a competition. Oh God, is he going to have to do that? He makes a mental note to ask Patch tomorrow...later today.

At some point he drifts off because he wakes up slumped over the arm of his couch, a terrible crick in his neck and drool on his arm. Charming, Moir. He sits up, feeling every joint in his body groan. Back in the day, he could drink all night and still show up to practice the next morning like it was nothing. Getting old sucks. Now he didn't even have to drink to feel hungover. He looks at the time, the five and the zero and the five. Just enough time to visit the toilet, splash some water on his face and meet Tessa at the car.

"You look like shit." she says, by way of a greeting. She's standing by the car, looking perfect as always. She probably made herself a salad and then tucked herself right into bed. Maybe she had a bath in between.

"Good morning to you too, T." He unlocks the doors and slumps down behind the steering wheel. Tessa gets in on the other side, her high ponytail almost hitting him in the face.  
Even at this early hour, the streets are busy. The plow had just gone through and the exposed road left behind is slippery. The car drifts a bit before he rights it and he glances over at Tessa. "Do you want to grab breakfast after the gym?"

"Hmm?" she says, turning her gaze toward him. They're stopped at a red light. One that he knows intimately. They'll be here at least five minutes.

"Breakfast? After the gym?" He doesn't want to sound desperate but he kind of is. He's desperate to hold onto some kind of holiday cheer and he feels her slipping away.

"Oh," she says. "I can't. Mathieu is picking me up after and we're going for coffee. He wants to talk about some new design ideas he has and that was the only time that worked for both of us..." Her voice trails off as he stops listening.

At the gym, he daydreams about last minute flights home for Christmas. Of walking off the plane in London and meeting his brother, that he's called in secret to come pick him up and surprising his mom and dad. The last time he spoke with his mom, in Japan, before their flight home, she said that she was so happy that he was going to spend Christmas in Montreal with Tessa. "It's a bit romantic, actually." she had said. He had hoped it might be, even a little bit, but it was looking now that it would take a Christmas miracle to even get Tessa to spend ten minutes with him.

After Mathieu has whisked Tessa away, Scott drives to the rink. She'll be there in 45 minutes anyway and he can't wait to hear all about what uncomfortable design has been chosen for him now. He sits in the lobby for a while and then moves to the change room. He's just lacing up his skates when Tessa comes breezing in. She's always energized after talking fashion. It's like she absorbs strength and vitality from design sketches and fabric swatches. Even the mere thought of design sketches has made his eyes glaze over. When he asks her about what they discussed, she smiles and says it's a secret.

Their time on the ice is short, in the absence of well, nearly everyone. Only Patrice is there and he keeps looking at his watch. Scott's bent over, huffing and puffing after a free dance run-through and that's when Patch calls it. Says he has to go pick his kid up from school because it's early dismissal thanks to Christmas holidays starting. "Are you okay?" Tessa asks, nudging his skate with her toepick. 

He stands up straight, pretending that his lungs aren't burning. "I think I just need a nap." he says.

*

Back at home, there's been a package haphazardly thrown in front of his door. He stops to pick it up before continuing inside. He recognizes his mom's writing and decides to put it aside until after his nap because otherwise he's liable to start bawling more than the woman at the airport last night. He puts it on the kitchen table and then crawls into his bed, pulling the covers up and over his head.

When he wakes up a few hours later, he swears that he hears Christmas music. Upon shuffling out of the bedroom, he blinks once and then twice. Tessa appears to have made herself at home and is stringing some lights up around his kitchen cabinets while wearing those ridiculous antlers again. "Oh, hi." she says, pausing mid-string.

"Hi." he says back.

"I came by to grab some..." She looks around. "sugar. And um, I noticed that you didn't have any Christmas decorations up, so I figured I'd..."

"Decorate my apartment?"

"Yes." She has one last string of lights to finish and he watches her struggle to toss it over the edge of the cupboard before he steps in and takes it from her. "Thank you." she says and then claps her hands together. "Doesn't it look better? I know how much you love Christmas, so I was surprised to see that you hadn't put anything up."

He has realized that he doesn't love Christmas - he loves the idea of Christmas. He loves family and friends and egg nog with too much brandy and kids that are too excited to sleep but must because otherwise Santa won't come. He doesn't love a lonely apartment that is now lit up with multi-coloured lights. "I guess I just haven't had the time." he says and then, "Thank you."

Tessa's eyes fall upon the parcel sitting on his table. "Is that from your mom?"

He nods and picks it up. "It was outside my door when I got home."

"And you haven't opened it yet?!"

He was tired then and he's still tired now and he really doesn't want to open it with Tessa here because then he might have to explain why he's crying and she probably has a dinner date with Sam or something. "It's probably nothing important."

"It says 'Open right away!' on the side." He turns it over. So it does. With a sigh, he sits down on the sofa and begins to methodically peel the tape off the brown paper. Tessa sits down beside him, moving her Spotify Christmas playlist blaring phone closer. "Is this how you are on Christmas morning?" He has one side of the parcel untaped.

They've never spent Christmas together. Or even birthdays, with piles of presents to open. Her question is innocent and meant in jest but it still stings. "Yes." he says, the word coming out a bit harsher than he intended.

"Sorry." she whispers and then leans back into the sofa. 

Inside the parcel is a container of sugar cookies, a string of tinsel garland and a tiny bottle of brandy. 'A Christmas care package' the note from his mom says. 'Please share the cookies with Tessa.' He opens the container, takes one look at the cookies, obviously decorated by small hands and swallows hard. His vision blurs and he looks up, pretending to be suddenly intrigued by the ceiling, hoping to stem the flow of tears before they start.

He can hear Tessa breathing beside him, even over the too cheerful notes of Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree. "I'd rather be there too." she says. "My mom, my sister and my brothers are going to the cottage."

He swipes the back of his hand across his eyes. She looks so small now, even the tips of her antlers appear to have drooped. "Everyone is going to Aunt Carol's house this year." he says. "Even Danny." His brother lives in Calgary and some years, he has to work through the holidays and can't make it home.

They've both sacrificed a lot for their chosen careers but this, right now, this is one of the hardest.

*

Tessa had gone early in the evening, leaving him alone with his tiny bottle of brandy and container of sugar cookies. She had taken the garland, wearing it around her neck. She was off to her humble abode, several floors up and with a much better view. He peers out through the window, watching snowflakes swirl in the glow of the streetlight for a while and then huffs out a hot breath onto the glass and draws a small snowman in the condensation.

He's back on the couch again in the wee hours of the morning. The numbers on the microwave taunt him but this time, he has nowhere to be in the morning. When he wakes up, face down on the cushion, he groans and then hauls himself off to the shower. He emerges a half hour later, skin bright pink from the too-hot water and as he's towelling off, he swears he hears Christmas music again.

He cracks open the door and sure enough, Tessa has reappeared, this time with an armload full of pine boughs? Instead of antlers, a jaunty Santa hat adorns her head. "What the hell, Tessa." She whirls around and faces him, her eyes drifting slowly from his face, down his bare torso and landing on the towel around his waist.

"Oh, hi." she says. A faint pink tinge spreads across her cheeks. He files that away for later. "I was out for a walk this morning and saw these outside and I thought-"

"DId you steal pine boughs from someone's front door?"

"No!" Tessa says, sounding somewhat indignant. "They were outside. And I thought, since we can't have real Christmas trees in here, that these might be nice instead." She tears her eyes away from his torso and looks instead at the empty cookie container on his table. "Did you eat all the cookies? You were supposed to share them with me!"

He grimaces, recalling how disgusting he felt last night after eating them all. "Um, sorry." he says. "I'm going to go put some clothes on." He swears, as he walks away, he hears Tessa say 'too bad'.

An hour later, he has to admit that his apartment now looks and smells like Christmas. He then realizes that they hadn't really discussed it, he just kind of assumed, that they'd be spending Christmas together tomorrow. Suddenly afraid that she might have made other plans, he blurts out, "So, what are you doing tomorrow?"

Tessa looks up from tweaking one of the strings of lights. "I thought I'd go into the gym and then find a bottle of wine and feel sorry for myself."

"Oh, so about the same as me then."

"Yup," Tessa says. "Jordan said she'd facetime me from the cottage during dinner but I don't think I want to, you know?"

"Tell her that you have plans." He feels emboldened now. This is great! Tessa is just as miserable as he is!

"Plans."

"Yes," he says. "You're having dinner with me." As he says it, he regrets it. Where is he supposed to find a turkey on such short notice? And cranberries? And he doesn't even know how to make stuffing.

"Oh, Scott..." she says. "Um..."

He feels his heart drop. Again. She already has plans. She doesn't but just doesn't want to be with him. "No, it's okay. I should have asked earlier, sorry. I just assumed..."

Her head is bent down, the pom-pom on the top of her hat floating in front of her face. The silence between them is awkward. Suddenly she lifts her head, the pom-pom swinging back. "You know what? Sure. I'll just text Jordan right now." She grabs her phone from the counter. He stares at her, wondering what just happened.

"Well, okay, cool." he says. "I'm going to go out-" He gestures at the door. "and grab some groceries! Prepare yourself for the best Christmas dinner, ever!"

*

The grocery store is packed. He regrets this immensely. Even more so when his shins are rammed by a cart driven by a frantic mom with three kids trailing behind. But he soldiers on, remembering that Tessa has agreed to have dinner with him. Not that they never eat together because they do and sometimes it even feels like a date but this is Christmas. 

He finds that the store has no turkeys. Or chicken. Or poultry of any kind. Other than frozen chicken nuggets in the shape of dinosaurs. He thinks for a moment about buying them but then decides against it and picks up a salmon instead. This is going to be Scott and Tessa's Christmas, not a family Christmas, so salmon is acceptable. He stops at the bakery and picks up a few sugar cookies and then on the way to the checkouts, he finds a box of Christmas crackers that someone has abandoned on top of a pile of bananas. He adds them to his basket.

When he gets home, he finds that Tessa has left and there's a note on his stove. He sets the groceries down, approaching the piece of paper with dread. He expects it to be a note saying that she has changed her mind and he's on his own tomorrow. Instead it's a brief note in Tessa's messy scrawl that she has gone to do some laundry and she'll be back later. He peers into his room and finds his laundry hamper empty and a quick check of the bathroom reveals that she has taken his towels to wash as well. He snorts out a laugh and then returns to put the groceries away.

He's asleep when she comes back and only wakes up when she can't get the top drawer of his dresser to close. There's banging and a soft, "shit!" and then what sounds like a small foot kicking the offending piece of furniture. "You have to kind of twist it as you close it." he mumbles, sitting up in bed. "Otherwise the drawer goes off the track."

Tessa freezes, a handful of his underwear in the air. "Ah," she says and drops the underwear into the drawer. "Thanks."

"I can wash my own clothes, you know." he says.

She shrugs. "I was doing laundry anyway and it wasn't a full load..." Her antlers are back and her cheeks are again stained pink.

He thinks about her on the ice, where she's so confident and beautiful and sexy. He kind of likes that she's not exactly the same off of it. She's still beautiful and sexy but she's a bit more shy and not nearly as bold as the woman he dances with. He feels suddenly like he needs to touch her, so he reaches out and puts a hand on her arm. She pauses and then closes her eyes. "Thank you," he says. "for doing my laundry." He takes his hand away and she scurries off with a basketful of neatly folded towels.

*

The clock on the microwave says that it's after midnight. It's officially Christmas. He reaches over and grabs the remote, clicking the TV off and then looks at the blanket covered lump beside him. They both fell asleep over a cheesy Christmas movie hours ago. He's not sure if he should wake her or not but then decides he'd better because he knows how much his couch sucks to sleep on all night. He gives the lump a gentle nudge and then a not so gentle shove. Her dark head springs up. "What time is it?" she asks, her voice husky with sleep.

"Um, just after midnight." he answers and then adds, rather unnecessarily, "We fell asleep."

Tessa paws her hands through her hair, trying to tame the now staticky strands. She frowns. "Now I'll have to go back and rewatch the end of that movie."

"Spoiler alert," Scott says. "the guy decides not to sell the Christmas tree farm and realizes he's in love with the girl."

"Obviously," She stands up, pausing to look out the window. It's snowing. Shocking. "but how did he decide that? What happened to make him realize he loved her?"

"I think he just woke up one morning and realized that he didn't want to spend the rest of his life without her."

"Oh." Tessa says and then exhales. Her breath coats the window, revealing the snowman that he had doodled the other night. Along with - oh, shit. A heart with the letters T and S in it. He really needs to stop acting like a lovesick fifteen year old. "I think I'd better head to bed!" she says, whirling around and grabbing her things. "What time do you want me here for dinner?"

"Whenever." he says. "Just pop over whenever."

She leaves, the door closing loudly behind her. He slumps back down onto the couch and turns the TV back on.

*

"We have a tradition," Tessa says, as she comes barging into his apartment at - he squints at the clock - 6:30 am. "of making pancakes on Christmas morning." She's still wearing her pyjamas and carrying a frying pan. "So, get up," she says. "we're having pancakes."

He sits up, his back protesting yet another night on the couch. New Years resolution: get a new couch. "Um, alright." he says. "Merry Christmas?"

Tessa bangs the pan down on the stove. "Merry Christmas." She reaches over and plugs the Christmas lights in and then turns the volume up on her phone. 'Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas' comes whafting through the apartment.

He makes the coffee as she prepares the pancakes and for a moment, he's almost happy that he's not at home in Ilderton because Tessa Virtue wouldn't be in his kitchen, wearing penguin pyjamas with fuzzy slippers. "Do you guys open presents before breakfast?" he asks, handing her a mug of coffee.

"Sometimes." Tessa replies. "It depends on how many of us there are."

"We were always allowed to open one present and then we had to have breakfast before opening the rest. Otherwise we'd just eat chocolate and candy for the rest of the day."

Tessa flips over the pancakes. "That's the best part of Christmas though."

He opens the cupboard over his head and pulls out the package of sugar cookies he bought yesterday. "Speaking of, I bought these. They aren't the same as the ones I ate, but I thought maybe they'd do." He puts them down on the counter and she smiles at him.

"After breakfast." she says and flips two perfectly cooked pancakes onto a plate. "Eat up."

*

After breakfast Tessa vanishes and he begins to question whether the morning had actually happened or if his messed up mind had imagined it all. A loud chime from his phone startles him and he picks it up. "Meet me outside in ten. We're going for a walk to burn off all those cookies." He glances at the now mostly empty package of cookies on his counter. She definitely had been there.

He throws on his jacket, the clompy boots and pulls a Leafs toque over his head. The snow is coming down fast and furious now. He finds himself singing 'White Christmas' while waiting for the elevator and he's just trying to remember the last verse when he opens the front door and is immediately hit square in the chest with a snowball.

She's laughing, her big laugh that he thinks sometimes is reserved just for him. "I'm so glad it was you this time!"

"This time?"

"I hit the guy from the third floor, you know the one with the yappy dog? About two minutes ago."

"Tessa! He doesn't even look like me!"

"No," she says, "You're much more handsome." And then stuffs a handful of snow down the back of his neck. He yelps, jumping back, shaking as much of the snow off as he can. He feels it dripping down his back.

She's wearing the ridiculous Santa hat again and he's suddenly worried that it won't keep her warm enough so he reaches over, tugs it off and replaces it with his own toque. She gives him a look, a small smile and a nod of thanks. He takes her mittened hand in his own and they set off down the sidewalk.

Montreal is beautiful in the snow, with Christmas lights still glowing in hollowed out caves on evestroughs and trees. Most of the shops are closed but a few are open to welcome the ones that either don't celebrate the holiday or the ones, like them, that needed to escape. He stomps the snow off his boots before pushing open the jangling bell door and ushering Tessa into the warmth of the shop.

"Joyeux Noel!" says the woman behind the counter. She smiles warmly at them. There's a few other patrons in the shop, huddled over cups of coffee. One is a paramedic, radio propped up against the napkin holder. Another is a student, text books open.

"Why don't you grab a table and I'll order the drinks. Do you want the usual?"

She's scanning the handwritten chalkboard menu and shakes her head. "No," she says. "I think I'll have a London Fog instead." She then heads across the room, settling down at a table by the window.

He places their orders - the usual black coffee for him and an odd request of a London Fog for Tessa and tips the barista well. She might not even celebrate Christmas but he definitely appreciates having a place to go. He takes both drinks, relishing the warmth of them in his hands and joins Tessa at the table.

"I think I'm going to apply at Concordia." Tessa says. He's in the middle of taking off his scarf and jacket. "For the fall semester."

He smiles, draping his jacket over the back of the chair. "You'll kick ass."

"Are you okay with that? If I go back to school?"

He wonders why he wouldn't be. He's so proud of how smart and dedicated she is. "Of course?"

"It just might mean that we may have to turn something down - if it doesn't work with my schedule."

He shrugs. He feels warm, almost too warm. Tessa was staying too. "I accepted a coaching position with Patch and Marie-France. I'm not exactly going to be rolling in free time either."

Tessa takes a sip of her tea and then looks at him. Really looks at him, her eyes almost boring straight into him. "I'm really proud of you." she says softly. "You know that, right?" He had a sneaking suspicion and she had said it before but this was the first time that he really heard her say it and knew she meant it. He looks down at his mug. "What about the shop?" she asks.

When he and his uncle had come up with the crazy idea of opening a skate shop, he figured he'd settle down back in the London area once the Olympics were over - work at the shop during the day, court some pretty ladies by night. Now he simply says, "Paul and Cara are doing a great job running it. They don't really need me. I can still stop by whenever I'm in town."

He can almost see the gears in Tessa's head turning. They had only talked briefly about life after the Olympics. Never really about their own relationship and what course it might take. The last couple of years had been about their return to competition, to training and doing things better than they had before. Better team, better communication, better friendship. And it had worked. To go from where they had been, to where they were now, it hadn't been easy. "I'm glad you're staying too." she says finally. "It wouldn't be the same here without you."

A few tables over, the paramedic's radio crackles to life and he jumps up. Swinging his coat over his shoulders and finishing off the last bit of his drink in one practiced move. He heads out the door, back out into the winter wonderland, though Scott supposes he sees the snow a bit differently. He knows his brothers do. When it snows, it just means more accidents and more people trapped in vehicles. He hopes that maybe one day he can make a difference in someone's life too. Start giving back instead of taking, taking, taking.

*

"I just never really thought of salmon as being particularly, you know, Christmassy." Tessa is peering over his shoulder, watching as he squeezes some lemon onto the fish.

"They ran out turkeys and anything even vaguely resembling a turkey, Tess." He grabs the butter and brushes a bit onto the fish. "Trust me, this will be even better."

Tessa, who had to be the world's largest consumer of Spotify Christmas playlists at this point, turns up the volume as Josh Groban singing 'O Holy Night' comes on. She closes her eyes and just sways to the music as he finishes wrapping the fish in foil and shoves it into the oven. When the song ends, her eyes snap open. "Oh!" she says and makes a beeline for the door. "I forgot something at my place. Be right back!"

He watches her leave, hoping she'll come back and the idea of Christmas salmon hasn't turned her off entirely. He busies himself with preparing the potatoes, assuming she will return. And she does, about five minutes later, carrying a pile of something. It looks almost like a parachute. With the potatoes on the stove to boil, he just stands back and watches as she pushes open the door to his snow covered balcony and begins to set something up. He watches, in almost abject horror, as she plugs something in and the parachute begins to rise up in the shape of a snowman.

"Tess," he says, stepping closer to the balcony door. "Please tell me that you did not steal this from someone's front yard."

"It's it great?" she ethuses. "I saw it yesterday and I thought about how much you obviously like snowmen."

"Uh, yeah..." he says. The snowman bobs cheerfully. "It's really great. Let's just um, go back inside..." He pulls her inside, shutting the door behind them. He's pretty certain this is violating some strata rule and he's going to get a nastygram taped to his door the next day. No large inflatables on balconies or something along those lines.

He returns his attention to the now boiling pot on the stove and Tessa, the sweet sounds of Bing Crosby being interrupted by a call from her sister, answers the phone. He tries to not pay attention and focus on dinner preparation but he can't help but overhear his name several times. A few minutes later, Tessa shoves the phone in his face and he dutifully waves hello to Jordan and the rest of Tessa's family, all snug and merry at Kate's cottage.

"I asked her to not call." Tessa says after. She reaches into the fridge and pulls out the bottle of wine that she'd put in there a few hours ago. He mashes the potatoes while she pours herself a healthy glass of it and takes a long sip. "I didn't really want to see everyone there. Without me."

"I'm so sorry, Tessa." He's not sure what else to say. He knows how he'd feel if one of his brothers had done the same thing. Luckily they all thought he was too dumb to do anything more than send a text message, so it was never really a possibility. She gives him a sad smile and then takes her wine and sits down at the table. "Next year, we'll be at home." he says, hoping that it's true.

The timer on the oven goes off just as he's finishing with the steamed broccoli. With Tessa's help, they set the table and as they sit down to their Christmas salmon dinner, he leaps up, remembering the box of crackers he had bought. He brings them back, opening the box and taking two out. He sets one down at her place and one at his. She just shakes her head and laughs. A while later, with her head now adorned with a yellow paper crown and his with a red one that he ripped, she picks up her phone and snaps a photo of the two of them. She shows it to him and he jokingly says she needs to delete it but the truth is that it's probably his favourite photo of them.

*

"Have yourself a merry little Christmas," he warbles and lifts his wine glass. They've almost polished off the bottle and he feels like his hometown buddies would laugh at him for being such a lightweight now. "Make the yuletide gay." He downs the last sip and sets the glass beside Tessa's on the coffee table. "From now on, our troubles will be miles away."

"You're a regular ol' Sinatra." Tessa says, cuffing him gently on the shoulder.

He has been singing to her for years. He doesn't know what he'll do when he can't. "You know you love it, T."

"I do." she agrees. She's still wearing the paper crown but has managed to affix the antlers as well and he's pretty sure that he's never been more in love with her than he is in this very second. He leans in, closer, closer and he gently pushes the drooping antlers back up. He can feel her soft breath on his cheek and then he figures, what the hell, it's Christmas and he's overdue for a miracle. He presses a kiss to her cheek at first and then, to his surprise, she turns and he feels his lips meet hers.

They've kissed before but not like this. Their old relationship was tumultuous and sometimes fraught with drama. This wasn't. This was just, hmm -- he breaks away from her, needing to catch his breath. This was different. This time it feels like a new beginning. He moves in again, capturing her lips with his and they sink deeper into the couch and then, then he catches sight of the snowman outside the door. Its carrot nose and charcoal mouth grinning at him. 

"Be right back." he whispers to Tessa and dashes to the door. He draws the curtain. And then he returns to the couch, burying his face in her neck as she laughs.


End file.
